Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 11
Chapter 22
"Silence! or I'll settle you!" said one of the robbers to his almost unconscious victim; whom, with all the coolness of fancied security, he was beginning to plunder. I dashed the stone I held in my hand into his face, and he fell senseless to the ground, with a heavy groan, while I shouted at the same time, as if addressing some one behind me, "Now, Harry, blow the other rascal's brains out." The other _rascal_, however, did not wait to see the result. He was over the hedge in a moment, and running for bare life. I pretended to follow him, shouting aloud till he disappeared into the next enclosure. I then returned to the road, where I found the man still lying senseless, though breathing heavily. I took the handkerchief from his neck and bound his hands together; and tearing the crape from his face, I took a long and steady look at his features, that I might be able to swear to his identity, if necessary. The lady, who was fortunately unhurt, and had by this time recovered from her alarm, overwhelmed me with acknowledgments, which I parried as well as I was able; and I endeavoured to turn her thoughts into another channel, by requesting her to look at the face of the senseless man. After a little hesitation, she did so, and immediately recognised him as an old servant of her father's--a worthless vagabond, who had been discharged for theft, and had vowed revenge. Hitherto I had had little time to take any particular notice of the appearance of the lady I had been so fortunate as to rescue. I had merely remarked the grace of her form, and the soft, sweet tone of her voice; but now that I had leisure to look at her features, as the moonbeam rested brightly upon them, I was struck with their beauty: I felt, as Byron has it,
"My sinking heart confess The might, the majesty of loveliness."
I gladly offered to escort her to her home, which, she said, was only about half-a-mile distant, and where we could procure assistance to remove the still insensible footpad. Before we set off, however, I took the liberty of securing his pistols, which could be of no service to him in his present state, but might materially benefit us. After a sharp walk of ten minutes, the lady stopped at a gate, which I immediately knew to be the one I had so lately left.
"Now, sir, I am at home. Allow me to welcome to it my brave deliverer, and to introduce him to my father."
"I require no introduction," replied I, "if you are, as I surmise, the daughter of Captain Trimmer."
"Do you know him?--he is my father."
"I only left him about an hour ago; and fortunate it was that I did not yield to his urgent wish for me to remain longer."
Captain Trimmer listened in breathless anxiety as his daughter told the tale of her danger and deliverance; and drawing a long breath when it was ended, he muttered "Heaven be praised!" He then rang the bell violently, and gave the servants orders, and directions where to find the wounded footpad.
"And now, my dear young friend," said he, "what can I say to _you_? I can't say anything just now, my heart is too full! but there's my hand, and you shall find me, as long as I live, a firm and warm friend."
I could only press _his_ affectionately in reply. He insisted upon my remaining where I was for the night, and despatched a man on horseback to explain to my friends the reason of my absence. From this time my intercourse with the worthy captain became daily more intimate--almost every spare hour of my time was devoted to his society. As his character opened out upon me, I saw in his conduct so many proofs of genuine goodness of heart and rectitude of principle, that I felt as much affection and respect for him as for a dear and honoured parent. His daughter Emmeline, too, was one of those gentle, retiring characters, who may require to be known to be admired, and whose virtues, like those of the sweet and modest violet, require to be sought after to be properly appreciated. I was always fond of music. We all know its influence over the feelings--its power to awaken the hidden sympathies of the heart--to recall the joys and sorrows of the past, and to stir up glowing anticipations and high resolves for the future. Her voice was clear and sweet as a bird's; and when she warbled over the melodies of her native land, I felt so much absorbed in the beauty of the strain, as almost to forget the singer. You smile, and anticipate the result. How could it be otherwise? How could I live in close and constant communion with one so fascinating, and escape the fascination? It is not amid the factitious glare and excitement of society that such characters as hers can be appreciated: there the tinsel too often glitters more brightly than the pure gold; but in the calm and peaceful intercourse of domestic life, their pure and gentle influence is felt and valued. I was becoming daily more and more an admirer of the gentle Emmeline, when the sudden death of my father awakened me from my dream of love, and startled me into serious consideration. He died as he had lived--poor; for it was found, on examining his affairs, that, though maintaining an appearance of wealth and comfort, his life must have been a constant struggle with difficulties; and there was barely sufficient left behind to satisfy the claims of his creditors. Deeply as I was grieved by his loss, I must say that feeling was not a little heightened by the disappointment of finding myself unprovided for. I had always been led to hope, that, though my father, from a wish to give me a spirit of independence, had left me, during my early life, to the exertions of my own energies for support, yet that at his death, he would leave me a handsome competency. But this hope was now disappointed, and with it vanished my bright dreams of Emmeline and happiness. I could not bear the thoughts of exposing the woman of my heart to the risk of poverty and privation. She knew not of my love, and now she must remain for ever in ignorance of it; for what had I to offer her?--a heart, and nothing more; and you know, Musgrave, that though _loving_ hearts are very pretty things in _poetry_, _smoking_ ones would better furnish forth a poor man's table. I gradually withdrew myself from the society of my good old friend, though it cost me many a severe pang to do so; and whenever I did meet him, I had always some faltering excuse to make about press of business, ill health, or bad weather. I was talking to him one day, when Emmeline, whom I had not seen for some time, unexpectedly joined us. The conscious blood rushed to my face immediately, and I stammered out some incoherent apology in reply to her expression of surprise at my long absence. The old man noticed my embarrassment, and became silent and thoughtful. At last, turning to his daughter, he said, "Emmeline, my love, see what we are to have for dinner; Mr. Lorimer will take family fare with us. Not a word, youngster" (to me, as I was beginning to remonstrate), "I am commanding officer here." We walked on together for some time in silence; at last he stopped, and taking my hand, while he looked full in my face he said---
"I am not so blind, Mr. Lorimer, but I can see which way the land lies. I like to be fair and above-board with every one; and you are not the man I shall break through the rule with. I like you, Frank Lorimer; and I would do much to serve you. Emmeline--(ah, there go the red colours again!)--you love her Frank!--win her and wear her if you can; you have my free and full consent. I have heard of your father's death, and its results; and I understand and honour the motives that have induced you to absent yourself from us. I am not a rich man, but I have enough to make two young people happy; and I know no one to whom I would more joyfully confide my daughter's happiness than to yourself."
Kind, generous old man! I had not a word to say. I merely pressed his hand in silence and tears. Yes, tears; for joy can weep as well as grief. I was soon again a constant visiter at Oak Lodge; and in a few months I had the happiness of calling Emmeline my own. I have been now married three years, and have every day greater cause to bless the happy chance which first led me to Oak Lodge. My excellent father-in-law lives with us, and delights in spending his day in nursing his little grandchildren. Long may he be spared to us!
"What! married and a father! O Frank, what a fortunate fellow you have been! Here have I been buffeting about the world for years, the shuttlecock of fate, hunting fortune in every corner of the world, and I return home, poor and penniless as the day I left it. I, whose early dreams were all of the happiness of a married life, shall sink into my grave a solitary bachelor, without one loved hand to tend my pillow, and to smooth my passage to the tomb."
"Oh, nonsense. Cheer up, Musgrave," said I; "I shall dance at your wedding yet. But why need you care now about the scurvy tricks of fortune abroad, since you have returned to enjoy her favours at home?"
"Favours! What do you mean, Frank?"
"Have you not heard of the death of your poor brother George, and that the lawsuit in which your father was so long engaged has terminated favourably for him. He is now in possession of a rental of three thousand per annum, to which, of course, you will be heir?"
"Heavens! you don't say so!" exclaimed Musgrave; "but I am sure you would not deceive me. I have not heard from home for upwards of a twelvemonth. Frank, you are a fine fellow; shake hands with me."
"Ay, that I will," said I; "and I congratulate you with all my heart. I am glad I have been the first to communicate such pleasing intelligence; and now, the least you can do in return is to give me an account of yourself since we parted."
"Why, I'm not in the best mood in the world for storytelling," replied Musgrave; "this unexpected good fortune has rather destroyed my equilibrium; however, I will brush up my memory for your gratification, though the retrospect will be anything but agreeable to myself. You remember, I daresay, the day when I left school; on my memory, at least, the recollection of it is as vivid as if it were yesterday. When I drove away in my uncle's carriage, I thought I was going home on a temporary visit, and little imagined I was never to return. When I arrived at home, I found in the drawing-room with my father a little, active, dark-looking man, with a stern, prompt manner, who was introduced to me as Captain Fleetwood."
"Richard, my boy," said my father, "you have often expressed a wish to go to sea, and I have now an opportunity of gratifying you. My friend Captain Fleetwood has volunteered to take you out with him as midshipman; and, as I know I could not intrust you to better hands, I am glad to avail myself of his offer. The warning is rather a short one, as you must be on board your ship within a fortnight; you have no time to lose; and I will accompany you to town to prepare your equipment. We will leave this to-morrow morning at nine o'clock."
I was rather staggered by this sudden announcement; for, though it had always been the dearest wish of my heart to go to sea, yet there was something so unexpected in the accomplishment of it, that I repented of my choice. My heart sank at the thought of such a sudden parting from home and all that was dear to me; besides, as I had just left school, I would have preferred having a few days' holiday, and an opportunity of strutting in my sailor's dress before the eyes of my admiring schoolfellows. However, there was no help for it now--my lot was cast for life; and, in a fortnight's time, I was fairly shipped on board the Anne, a snug free-trader, bound to the East Indies. I pass over the various details of my early career; you may find an accurate description of my first feelings and impressions, and those of five hundred others, on first joining a ship, in any circulating library in the kingdom. I encountered the usual hardships, and was exposed to the usual privations, incidental to the life of a sailor; but, as there was nothing particularly worthy of notice in the first seven or eight years of my sailor's life, I shall pass at once to the most interesting event in a career of no trifling variety. It is now upwards of two years since I went out chief mate of my old ship, under the command of my first friend, Captain Fleetwood, who was a clever, active seaman himself, and well qualified to make those under him the same. We had a crew of twenty-five young and able fellows, with, as usual, a sprinkling of black sheep among them. Our passengers were four in number--a gentleman and his wife, and two young ladies, going out to Bombay under their protection; all agreeable and well-informed people, and the young ladies blessed with a tolerable share of beauty. Time passed very pleasantly with us, for we were uncommonly favoured in wind and weather; and our captain, who was as kind and benevolent as a man, as he was strict and unflinching as an officer, delighted in promoting to the utmost every plan for the comfort and amusement of the crew.
"Och, isn't he a broth of a boy, now, that captain of ours?" I heard one of our men say to another, on one of the quiet tropical evenings, when the crew were enjoying themselves in the "waist," and the captain was whirling one of the ladies round in a waltz on the quarterdeck. "He's as full of fun as a monkey."
"Take care you don't shave the monkey too close, though, Mike, or perhaps the _cat_ will shave _you_."
"Is it the cat you mane?" replied Mike; "then, by the powers, it's myself that's not afeered for the 'cat,' for she never wags her tail here but when a man's either an ass or a skulk, and no man can say black's the white of the eye of Mike Delaney. But I say, Tom, hasn't this been an out-and-out passage? Why, we've never had nothing to do but to spin yarns and knot them; we might have stowed away the reef-points in the hold, we've never had no 'casion for them, and as for salt water, we haven't had a breeze to wash our faces for us since we left home. Blowed if we shan't get too fine for our work by and by--reg'lar gentlemen afloat. I think I'll sport a pair of them overalls that the long-shore beggars call gloves, to keep my flippers white," said Mike--at the same time spreading out a pair as dirty as the back of a chimney and as broad as the back of a skate.
"Gloves and delicate flippers like that!" answered his companion; "no, no, Mike--'twould be a sin and a shame to _hide_ it; that's a regular dare-devil hand--it cares neither for soap nor water. But, Mike, the voyage is not half over yet. We've had a fair weather passage so far; but I'm always afeerd of those unkimmon fine beginnings; ev'rything goes by contraries in this here world, and a good beginning often brings in its wake a bad ending. It's not in the coorse of nature to see such a long spell of fine weather; it's quite unnatural; it'll break out, by and by, in a fresh place--see if it don't. That 'ere butcher, the sea, lies there a-smiling at us as if we were so many hinnocent lambs; but he'll maybe have his hand on our throats yet."
"Well, Tom, it's never no use smelling mischief afore it comes; time enough when it does show its ugly mug, to grin in its face. I'm not the man to turn my back on it--nor you neither, for that matter, I'll be bound."
We had run nearly thirty-four degrees to the south of the equator, when the weather became very variable, and the wind at last settled into a strong breeze from the northward. One evening, we were spanking along with the wind in that quarter, with a heavy confused sea, when a thick gloom gradually overspread the sky, and the mercury, falling in the barometer, gave warning of approaching bad weather. All our small sails were taken in, and every necessary precaution adopted to prepare for a change. Our topsails were reefed, and the mainsail was hauled up and handled. About 6 P.M. Captain Fleetwood came on deck, and asked what I thought of the weather.
"Bad enough, sir; it does not seem to have made up its mind what to do; however, we are tolerably well prepared for a change, whichever way it may be."
"You must keep a sharp look-out, Musgrave; if it should begin to rain, depend upon it, the wind will chop suddenly round to southward. You must not let it take you unawares."
"I'll look for it in time, sir."
He had scarcely left the deck, when a light, drizzling rain came on, a partial lull succeeded, and the wind veered suddenly round to the south-westward. We were prepared for it, however, and our yards were soon trimmed to the wind; but our troubles were only beginning. The breeze freshened up so rapidly, that we had barely time to take in sail fast enough; no sooner was one reef in, than it became necessary to take in another. The sea was running, as landsmen say, mountains high; the winds howled through our rigging; and the giant albatrosses hovered round us, seen indistinctly for a moment through the gloom, and then soaring away on the gale, as if they were floating down a stream--their enormous wings extended, but motionless.
But men were aloft, close-reefing, and preparing to furl the foretopsail, when a heavy sea struck the ship, and a sudden squall laid her over on her beam-ends almost. The sudden jerk carried away the topmast backstays. There was no rolling tackle on the topsailyard, which jerked violently as the ship fell over, and the mast snapped just above the parrell. Five of the poor fellows were thrown off the topsailyard to leeward; we heard their cries dying away on the breeze; we could not see them, the weather was so thick, and darkness was coming on; and as for saving them, the attempt to do so would have been madness, although several men sprung forward to volunteer. It was with heavy hearts the men set to work to clear away the wreck; the cries of their poor shipmates were still ringing in their ears, and an hour or two elapsed before it was accomplished. All night long we were hard at work, furling sails, and sending down yards and masts; and when the morning appeared, the ship was hove to, with her head to the south-eastward, under a storm staysail. The decks were lumbered with wet sails, the main and mizen-topgallantmast and yards, and the remnants of canvas and rigging saved from the wreck of the topmast. We spliced the mainbrace, or, as you would say, served out drams; and the helm being lashed a-lee, the ship's company were sent below, to obtain the rest they stood so much in need of. Poor fellows! they were not allowed to enjoy it long.
"Where is the captain?" said the carpenter, rushing up the quarter-hatch with a face like a ghost--"where is the captain?"
"Well, Soundings," said Captain Fleetwood, "what do you want with me?"
"It's just about the soundings, sir, I want to speak to you." Then, drawing close to his side, he muttered, "There are four feet water in the well, sir."
The captain started, but recovered himself immediately.
"Very well. Rig the pumps directly. Mr. Musgrave, call the hands out; the ship has taken a little too much water in, over all. Heaven grant it's nothing worse!" murmured he.
The scene around us was now dreary and desolate in the extreme: the sky was dark, gloomy, and threatening; light, angry-looking, discoloured clouds flitted over it, like spirits disturbed, while overhead the scud careered with lightning-like rapidity; the sea was covered, as far as the eye could reach, with white foam, and the spray was blown over the ship in a constant heavy shower; the little "Mother Carey's chickens" were dipping their tiny wings in the waves under our stern, and the stormy petrel and albatross swept in wide circles round our storm-tossed vessel. The gale howled mournfully through our rigging, and every now and then a giant sea dashed against our side, and threw torrents of water over our decks. The hatches were battened down fore and aft, and the monotonous clanking of the pumps was heard, mingled with the loud cheers of the men, as they spirited each other up to renewed exertions, and the loud "spell oh!" when the different gangs relieved each other at the pump brakes. The whole of that day was one of incessant labour; for, when, after some hours of hard work, we had gained considerably upon the water, and relaxed a little from our exertions, we found that renewed efforts were required to keep the enemy at bay. Next morning the wind had greatly decreased, and was gradually dying away; but a high sea was still running, and the ship laboured tremendously. More sail was made to steady her; but, in spite of all our efforts, the leak increased; and at last it became evident, after everything had been done which seamanship could propose, or perseverance carry into effect, that the ship was in a foundering state. The captain, who had shewn himself active and energetic during the excitement of the storm, now proved that he possessed that true courage which can face unflinchingly the slow but sure approach of danger and of death. Calm and collected, nay, even cheerful, at least in appearance, his example encouraged and animated the crew, now almost exhausted with their constant exertions. He ordered one watch below to their hammocks, while the other was busied in fitting out the boats, and preparing provisions to put into them, and in keeping the pumps steadily but slowly at work. At last the hands were called out--"Out boats!" and when they were all assembled, Captain Fleetwood addressed them as follows:--
"My lads, the ship is sinking under us, and we must take to the boats. You have been active, patient, and obedient hitherto--be so still, and you may yet all be saved. Remember, that, as long as _one_ of your officers is above the water with you, to that officer you owe obedience. For my part, I am determined--and you know I am no flincher--to maintain my authority with my life; but I hope you will not put me to the proof. My intention is to steer for the Island of Tristan d'Acunha, which, if Providence favours us, we may reach in a week or ten days; but much depends upon your own exertions. Now, go below, and take the last meal you will ever eat on board your old ship. Heaven grant that we may all meet once more on shore!"
The men listened in silence, and uncovered while he spoke; and when he ended, they burst into a loud cheer, and one of them shouted out--
"We will stand by you to the last, sir!"
"Ay, that we will," was responded by all.
The captain took off his hat, and bowed, evidently much affected, and dismissed them.
In about twenty minutes they were again called up, and the boats were hoisted out. We had two quarter-boats, a launch, and a jolly-boat, which were amply sufficient to hold our whole number, reduced as it was by the loss of the five poor fellows in the gale; one of the quarter-boats, however, proved to be so leaky when lowered into the water, that we were obliged to abandon her. The other boats were furnished with masts, sails, a fortnight's short provision and water, arms--everything, in fact, that could be thought of as likely to be necessary. The captain took charge of the launch, and the second mate and I cast lots for the cutter; the chance was against me, and I took command of the jolly-boat. We were eight-and-twenty in number: twelve men, the captain, and two of the passengers, in the launch; myself, one of the ladies, and four men, in the jolly-boat; and the remainder in the cutter. When we had shoved off from the ship, we lay on our oars at some little distance, as if by mutual consent, to see the last of her; but the captain shouted out--
"Come, my lads, we have no time to spare; give the old craft one parting cheer, and let us make the best of our way."